Let Me
by dontmissthis
Summary: Maura finally finds what she's been looking for.


**Disclaimer: I obviously own none of this. **

**A/N: This is a little more serious than my other things and the writing style is a little different, but I hope you like it! **

**Please note the rating. **

…

The shoreline was endless, skirting the ocean in a thick, pallid band of sandy beach. The frigid wind whips a few strands of light hair around her face, the edges of her coat blowing against her sides. She shoves her cold hands into her pockets, turning her head to the left and squinting hard—like maybe if she focuses enough, she'll find what she needs.

It had been years.

Years upon years of seeing this same beach but not finding what she was looking for. It was torture. Her own personal hell. Trapped in this place, always waiting for something she may never find.

But she wouldn't change it.

Wouldn't take back her promise.

She'd stay here until her last breath if it meant she actually had a chance of getting back what she so desperately needs in her life. What she needs to actually _live_.

The sun finally breaks over the horizon and her shoes sink in the sand as she turns to walk back the way she came. She doesn't cry. There are no more tears left to do so. This is just another day. Another day of disappointment and emptiness to add to the others that have already accumulated over the years.

She shivers, wrapping her arms around herself as she walks past the rocks she used to sit by for entire days and watch the waves roll up onto the beach. Leaving a clean slate of sand behind in their retreat. To anyone else, they were entire days wasted away just…waiting.

But to her, they weren't wasted. No. Because she was waiting on the one good thing she had left to finally come back to her.

And although she only waits until the sun breaks over the edge now—like she promised so many years ago—it doesn't mean she cares any less. She's just gotten smarter. Knows it's futile to sit there if the sun had already risen. What she needed wouldn't be coming that day.

So now she wastes her days in her home, just waiting for the next morning to come so she can do it over again. It's a routine that would be bleak and austere to anyone else, but it gives her hope. Just a little hope for her to hold onto. To keep her going. To say, _perhaps tomorrow will be the day_.

She gets to the edge of the rocks and sighs. So close to her home now.

Her _house_. It's not home, not yet. Not without the one thing that makes her whole and fulfilled and loved and alive.

Her palm scrapes across the last rock as she pushes herself to keep walking. She looks at the fine, white lines now adorning her hand and slightly frowns. They were already starting to sting, faint tinge of red already coming to the surface.

It's only when she finally pulls her eyes away from her palm that she glances up.

And that's when she sees it.

Black.

Completely black and raven and wild and unruly and…_Jane_.

Her heart erratically starts to thrum within her chest.

She slightly shakes her head. No. _No_. It couldn't be. Not after all this time.

But it is.

Tall and lanky Jane, with long strides and a small bag slung over her shoulder. Heading directly towards her.

Maura's feet are moving before she realizes it. Running or walking, she isn't sure. Her shoes crunch in the sand and her heart is pounding, absolutely pounding. From excitement or the exertion of how fast she's trying to get to Jane or both combined, she isn't sure.

She just knows she's a barely foot from Jane when she pauses. Pauses only so briefly before leaning forward into Jane, throwing her arms around an even tanner neck than she's used to. Feeling the heat emanate off Jane, the ripples and contours of Jane's body through their coats.

She can hardly believe this is real.

Until Jane's arms wrap around her and hold her close, hold her tightly. Telling her that, _yes this is real and I am here_.

And finally, _finally_—after so many years, Maura lets herself cry. Lets the tears roll down her cheeks and pulls and clings to Jane. Refusing to let her go, refusing to let her pull back even an inch. For long seconds. Minutes. Her staccato breathing reverberates off Jane's neck and she sniffs, finally calming herself just enough to loosen her hold.

She takes a half step back—hands never leaving their fisted spot on the rough sides of Jane's coat—and really looks for the first time. It's been so long, and Jane has definitely changed. And yet…looks exactly the same.

Her features are just as sharp, her hair is just as black, and her eyes are just as brown.

But the years have brought faint lines to her face, have made her eyes more steely—more harsh. Like they've seen things that no one ever should. Maura hopes those looks that they only shared between themselves eventually come back—the way Jane's eyes lightened and the corners of her lips turned up in amusement and joy and carefree love.

She wants that. But Jane in any capacity is enough. Any little bit of her is enough.

Jane gives a very small, lopsided grin and lightly shrugs. "I told you I'd meet you here again."

Maura doesn't even notice a strand of her hair blowing against her cheek. It still doesn't feel real. Like at any moment this will get jerked from her all over again. "For how long?"

"Forever," Jane rasps, instantly somber. "I'm not leaving again."

"But—"

Jane abruptly cuts her off by pulling her close again and pressing their lips together. It's slow and reverent and _new_, but still so much like before. Jane's lips are just as soft and gentle as she remembers—still causing her body to react in the best of ways. Jane's hand curls in light hair and the undercurrent of want and _need _is now thinly veiled—waiting right under the surface for exactly the right moment when it can make itself known. When it can unleash the fury of being held at bay for so long, for so many years.

Jane slowly pulls back, foreheads mere centimeters from each other's—their warm breath making cloudy puffs in the cool air as they breathe. "I'm _never_ going to leave you again, Maura Isles. And that's a promise."

Just like Jane had promised to come back, and just like Maura had promised to wait…she had no doubt that this promise would be kept. Nodding, her lip lightly trembles as she reaches out and grasps Jane's hands—just to make sure one last time. To make sure this isn't something she's conjured out of pure desperation.

Jane's hands are rough, even more calloused than before. Her fingers are skinnier, the scars much flatter now. Maura traces her own fingers across each of Jane's and down the center of her damaged palms before Jane clears her throat. "You're shaking."

Maura looks up, tilting her head. "It's cold."

The smallest laugh bubbles from Jane's lips—another visible puff of air following. "Really? I didn't notice."

A response exactly like the old Jane would've given.

A smile tugs at the corners of Maura's lips and Jane looks down the beach. "Do you live close?"

Maura's heart drops. "You're—"

"I'm coming too," Jane reassures. She grins, squeezing Maura's hand in her own. "That way you can do your little inspection without freezing to death."

"It's not nearly cold enough for that," Maura says before gently tugging for Jane to follow. "But I do appreciate the concern."

Maura doesn't think twice about lacing their fingers together as they walk in the most comforting silence she's ever felt, stealing glances at Jane out of the corner of her eye—just so elated that she finally has what she's been missing for so long.

It's only minutes before they come up to a quaint house tucked in on a secluded part of the beach. Jane doesn't ask questions. Simply follows Maura inside, lips lightly tweaking up at the smell of…_home_ as soon as she walks in the door. There's simply no other way to describe it. She pushes her small bag—that holds all she has left to her name—higher on her shoulder and follows Maura down the narrow hall towards the living room.

The furnishings are so different that Jane had expected. Nothing like Maura's old house. But the casual, carefree style of the couch reflects what she's been yearning to have with Maura again for so long that it's absolutely perfect. So perfect that she wants to stay and never, ever leave.

And that's exactly what Jane plans on doing.

Jane looks down at the slightly damp legs of her jeans, her wrinkled shirt and frowns. This doesn't fit in with any of this—brings only reminders of her past. Jane abruptly looks up, eyes immediately finding Maura's. "Can I—"

"Shower?" She grins, delighted that she still knows what Jane is thinking without having to ask. Knows what those clothes are a reminder of and delighted that Jane no longer wants those memories either. "Of course. You don't need to ask me for permission."

After following orders for so long, it's almost as if she's forgotten what it's like to _not _ask. She nods, following Maura down the narrow hall into the only bathroom—decorated in silvers and blues that say _calm and collected _not _anxious and waiting_. Maura's own way of trying to deceive herself.

Jane sets her bag on the counter and watches her meticulously set the temperature to something she's certain Jane will approve of—just slightly hotter than she would like for herself. After making sure there's enough shampoo and body wash, she turns and inhales sharply. Jane's fingers are nimbly beginning to unbutton her shirt, pants already undone. Taking a step closer, Maura tentatively holds her hands out. "May I?"

Jane drops her hands, trying to hold in her grin. "You don't need to ask for permission, remember?"

Maura almost overflows with joy, glad that things aren't too incredibly strained between them. Glad that maybe they're already falling back into their old banter. Her fingers lightly grasp the wrinkled, worn and soft material of Jane's shirt as she pushes one button open after another—slowly and deliberately and amazed her hands aren't shaking more than they are.

She slides the shirt off Jane's shoulders, leaving her in only a tanktop. Her eyes roam over Jane's firmer, more muscular body. So changed and still so like the Jane she remembers. She's folding the shirt in her hands when it hits her and she freezes. It's unbelievable that it took her this long to notice.

"You smell different."

Jane slightly shrugs. "_I'm_ different."

"So am I."

"Doesn't matter," Jane reaches up, thumb lightly running over Maura's cheek. "I still love you."

Maura's chest feels like it's caving in on itself. Impossible, she knows. But it hurts so badly and yet, so perfectly. Her eyes brim with tears and she smiles, reaching up and placing her hand over Jane's on her cheek. "I'm glad that didn't change."

"Nothing could ever change that."

And by the conviction in Jane's voice, she can tell it's true.

Jane pulls off her tanktop and Maura does gasp at that. At the pink, jagged scar running from the upper left of Jane's ribcage down and across to her right hip. It's healed but still indented—a clear indicator of how deep it was. How painful.

"What happened?"

Her voice barely a whisper, laced with concern and fear and love.

Jane shrugs, hands dropping to her sides. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

Maura barely shakes her head, eyes never leaving the line of shiny skin adorning her abdomen. Knows how Jane is trying to protect her from the truth. "This…it should've killed you, Jane."

Jane remembers the blood, the screaming, the crying. Remembers waking up months later with a perpetual ache as she tried to move. Her face goes hard, jaw clenching as she looks to the floor. "It almost did. But I," she looks up, hands clenching into fists defiantly. "I promised I would come back. You…"

She trails off, fighting the burn of her throat. _You saved me._

And Maura had. On more than one occasion in those lonely years.

Even apart, Maura helped her. Healed her. Saved her. Made her fight back when the odds were stacked against her. She'd never stop being grateful for that.

Maura involuntarily reaches out, her fingertips lightly dragging down the soft, pink scar of healed skin. Jane inhales sharply, muscles tensing and she instantly pulls back. "'I'm sorry. I didn't—"

Jane lightly grasps her wrist. "I'm here now. And I'm yours. Don't apologize for touching me."

"Okay," Maura breathes, leaning in. Feeling that hunger inside of her building, threatening to break loose—no hope of reigning it in once it starts.

She slowly closes her eyes, trying to commit Jane's new scent to memory—just in case—before pulling back, stepping towards the door. Points to the underside of the vanity. "Towels. They…the towels are in there."

Jane smiles, eyebrow slightly quirking. " You're not staying? I didn't think I smelled_ bad_."

"No, I—it's yes. I mean," Maura clears her throat, embarrassment flushing on her face. She takes another step back. It's been so long and she wants this so badly, but she doesn't want to jump the gun. Doesn't want to take this too quickly. It's been so long that she just wants to savor every second. And if she doesn't back off now, reign in that passion, it'll be over as quickly as it starts.

"I'll be," she vaguely points over her shoulder, "in there when you're done."

Jane smirks.

It normally took a little more work than this to turn Maura into a blabbering mess, but almost five years away from someone makes it a little easier to accomplish.

She walks to her bedroom, rummaging around in her dresser to find something for Jane to wear. That small bag probably only holds a worn out pair of jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt—the bare minimum. Only the necessities. They'd definitely have to go shopping for her tomorrow. Some shirts and pants, shoes, perhaps even—

Maura's hands immediately clutch around the shirt she had pulled out.

_Tomorrow. _

Jane would still be here tomorrow.

Her smile and her smell and her love would still be here.

She swallows against the tightness of her throat, eyes brimming as she grins to herself. She's not alone. Not anymore. And never again.

It's like that—minutes later and clutching the shirt, blankly staring as emotions roll through her—that Jane walks in, leaning against the door frame in just a towel with her wet hair clinging to her shoulders.

"Maura? Are you okay?"

Maura jolts, shaking her head to clear her mind. To help her believe that voice is actually Jane's and this is real. "Yes. It's just that…you'll be here," she looks up, smallest of smiles tugging on the corners of her lips. "Tomorrow. You'll still be here."

Jane clenches her jaw. Hating herself for how much pain she's brought to the one person she _never_ wanted to hurt. Promising herself to make up for all the anguish she had caused. She nods, reassurance in her eyes. "Yeah. Of course I will."

"I'm…" She trails off, no words capable of describing how she feels.

But Jane knows exactly what she means.

"Me too," Jane rasps, pushing off the door and walking towards her. "I've never been so…" She pauses. Sighs. Words not enough. Not even close. So she does what she does best. Take actions to convey what she needs, what she feels.

Reaching up, Jane curls her fingers in the back of honey blonde hair. Pulls her close, leaning in and pressing their lips together in a way that expresses all that they feel but can't verbally express.

She responds instantly, shirt dropping from her hands to the floor so she can tug the thick white towel from Jane's body. Her hands slide up naked, damp sides—pulling at the same time until Jane is pressed completely up against her. She lets herself get walked backwards to the bed, sighing as her knees hit the edge.

Jane pulls back only long enough for her to pull off her shirt and bra, and crawl back completely on the bed before hovering over her—lips taking hers, claiming her. The need for touch too much to even think about breaking this contact for longer than even a second now. Jane's tongue slowly flits inside her mouth, consuming her. Slowly. Gently. Overwhelming in the best of ways .

She doesn't even have to ask. Doesn't even _think_ to ask—neither of them do. There's been no one else. For either of them.

No one else could've compared.

Her hands reach up and wrap in dark curls in an effort to bring Jane impossibly closer, her tongue claiming every bit of space in Jane's mouth, teeth biting her lower lip and letting it slowly slide away. She missed this. Missed it so much. Didn't even know exactly how much she really did until this very moment. Until Jane is above her and all around her. Kissing her softly and adamantly and more lovingly than anything she's ever experienced in her entire life.

Jane starts to pull back and she clings tighter, unwilling to let her go. Jane lightly kisses her, reassuringly. "I want to look at you."

Maura exhales in relief, understanding. Knowing exactly what Jane means. Her arms drop to the bed as Jane completely pulls back and starts to tug off her pants until they are now both completely bare. She feels her body flush with the intensity of Jane's roaming eyes. Her stomach clenches when she feels Jane's feather light touch roam down her chest, her sides, to the tops of her thighs. So attentive. Caring. Reverent. Like Jane's afraid she'll disappear under her fingertips at any second and is afraid to let go. Jane looks at her bent and spread legs, the place where her arousal is most evident. Sees how much Maura wants her. How much she _needs_ her.

Jane starts to lean down and Maura makes a faint nose of protest, her hands grabbing muscled arms and pulling Jane up. "Please. I want…Stay up here. With me. Stay with me."

And Jane does. Crawls back up and settles until their bodies are flush against each other, warm and soft and slick—fitting together in the most perfect of ways. Jane wraps one arm underneath her back and the other travels between them, between Maura's legs. Long fingers trail the length of her wet, wanting center before sliding lower. She nearly cries out at the sensation of being filled, being completed.

Finally being whole again.

Jane starts slow and careful—like this is fragile and one wrong move might shatter it into bits and they'll be left alone like they were for so agonizingly long. Maura wants to keep her eyes open, to see everything—afraid it will disappear if she closes her eyes for too long. But she can't help it when her eyes flutter shut. Can't help her nails digging into Jane's back to pull her closer and convey her want for deeper, faster, _more_. Can't help her short gasps, the tear that involuntarily slips down her cheek as she gets driven higher and higher. Closer and closer.

Because finally, _finally_ there is nothing else. Nothing and no one keeping them apart. Just them. Just this.

And this is everything.

The bed starts to rock with them and Jane leans back briefly from Maura's lips to look. To see and remember exactly what she had been missing out on. To etch it into her memory again-even though this image was the only thing that got her through most nights. Maura's light hair is splayed out on the pillows all around her, her breasts moving and undulating with each thrust, one tear streak down her left cheek.

Beautiful.

Her eyes finally open and meet Jane's, a silent request. A forewarning. Her hands reach up and cup Jane's cheeks, taking in a few deep breaths when Jane finally nods. It's only a few thrusts and mere seconds when her body lurches up, clenching and tensing. Trying to pull away from Jane and yet, trying to get closer and never let this end.

Her eyes clench shut, light whimper coming from her lips as she gets hit with wave after wave of her release. Her completion. Her absolution. Jane watches her, feels her come apart in her arms. Feels her trembling. Makes sure she's satisfied and every ounce of pleasure is spent before gently removing her fingers and laying on the bed at her side.

Maura instantly rolls over, cheek resting against Jane's chest. Her hand trails down the path of the soft scar, lower and lower until Jane's hand is resting on top of hers. Stopping her.

"Jane—"

"We can wait."

Her fingers skim over the scar once again as she looks into brown eyes. "You're beautiful."

Jane wrinkles her nose in protest.

"You are."

She tries to move her hand lower, and Jane stops her once again. "Maura, I'm just…I'm tired."

By the increased thrumming of Jane's heart beneath her ear, she knows that's not the whole truth. Knows there's more behind this.

She props herself up on one elbow, looking down at Jane's face. Eyes mapping the faint worry lines around her eyes. "Let me do this for you, Jane."

"No."

Maura exhales, hand traveling back up to cup Jane's cheek—her thumb rubbing slow, caressing circles. "Don't punish yourself, Jane. Don't you dare."

Jane scoffs. Tears burning behind her eyes. Looks away. "I don't deserve this. Any of this."

"None of this was your fault, Jane. None of it."

Jane looks back up at her face, voice thick and raspy. "It feels like it is."

She shakes head, reassurance in her eyes. "You didn't have a choice. You had to go."

An exasperated sigh floats between them. "We could've figured out a way to—"

"We thought about it for weeks, Jane. And _I've_ thought about it ever since," her voice starts to crack and she clears her throat. "There was just no other way. This was _not _your fault."

Jane says nothing. Blinks back tears.

"None of it, okay? I don't blame you and I never will."

Jane barely nods, swallowing thickly.

Fear of losing Jane again takes over, and she moves until she's hovering on top and cups Jane's face a little tighter. To keep her focused. To keep her from retreating into her thoughts.

"I love you, Jane. So much. I may have changed, but I still love you and I still can't lie. So when I say it's not your fault, I mean it. Do _not_ punish yourself. Not now. You deserve to be happy and you deserve to be happy _with me,"_ she leans closer, kissing Jane's soft lips. "And I want to finally be happy with you again. For the rest of my life. So please. _Let me_."

And Jane does.

…

…

**I'm not so sure about this (I also didn't proofread, oops). Any feedback extremely welcomed! Thank you so much for reading, lovelies. (: **


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